


Stan's Law

by trash_devil



Category: South Park
Genre: Crying, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Mentions of Shooting, Still bad at summaries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-20 00:09:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17611712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trash_devil/pseuds/trash_devil
Summary: Stan's Law states that in any given situation, Stan Marsh would give the world for Kyle Broflovski.





	Stan's Law

“How are you doing?”

Stan looked up at him from his spot on his bed. “I’m okay. Why?”

Kyle’s eyebrows knitted together in concern. “‘Cuz you got shot and my mom had to drive you to the hospital since neither of your parents showed up? Remember?”

“Yeah, I remember.” He picked at his cast to distract himself. “I hurt my arm, not my head.”

“And it doesn’t bother you? That, like, you’re mom was freaking out about the shootings and then you get hurt and suddenly she doesn’t care anymore?”

“No. I’m glad she didn’t care.” His mouth curved into an odd little smile. 

“... Are you serious? Oh my God, you’re serious.” Kyle threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “Stan, listen to yourself. You are glad that your mom didn’t care?”

“Well, I mean, the alternative is that she cares and then she and my dad get in another fight and they split up and it’s once again all my fault.” He pulled his legs up so that he was sitting cross-legged on the bed. He felt small, with Kyle standing over him the way he was, but he supposed that was mostly because he _was_ pretty small. 

Smaller than Kyle, at any rate. A few inches make a hell of a difference when you’re ten. 

Kyle sighed and sat down next to him. The mattress dipped beneath his weight, making Stan crash into him with a little squeak that he decided to ignore. “You know, Stan, I think that’s your problem: you blame yourself for everything.”

Stan was torn between pulling back to glare at him or just letting himself rest against his shoulder. 

He decided on the latter. Glares had never worked on Kyle.

“Stan? I’m talking to you.”

“I know. I just don’t know what you want me to say,” he answered.

“It’s not about what I want to hear; it’s about what you want to tell me.”

“I don’t want to tell you anything.”

Kyle huffed out a breath through his nose, “How rude. I’m your friend, you know.”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” He looked to Kyle, his eyes wide and frantic. “I just- I meant- there’s just nothing to tell…” His fingers tightened around Kyle’s sleeve.

Kyle gently untangled his fingers. “I’m not going anywhere, Stan.” The fear in Stan’s eyes didn’t fade, so he repeated, more firmly this time, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“... You promise?”

“Of course. I’m not gonna just abandon you.”

 _You have before._ Stan bit his lip and stayed quiet. He refused to give that thought a voice.

Kyle sighed. He wrapped an arm around Stan and wondered why things between them were so different now. It was like one day Kyle had looked away, and when he looked back there was suddenly a barrier that hadn’t been there before. Stan had retreated into himself like a snail poked with a stick. 

Even so, sorrow oozed out of the cracks of his shell, as slow and sticky as slime. He was no longer vocal about it the way he had been when he first turned ten, but it was still tangible in the air. It was as if he exhaled clouds of melancholy. It was a scent, a flavor, the tinge of alcohol on his every breath and the darkness in his eyes.

“It’s okay, Kyle,” Stan was saying.

Kyle couldn’t remember when he had gone from trying to comfort Stan to it being the other way around. 

Probably around the same time he had started crying.

Stan hugged Kyle with his good arm. “It’s okay.”

_It’s not._

“It will be okay.”

Kyle hiccuped.

Stan pulled him closer, ignoring the pain that shot up his arm as Kyle crushed against him. He didn’t so much as flinch. “Maybe not today, or tomorrow, or the day after, but one day it will. I promise you,” he said with conviction he did not feel.

“W-Will it?”

“Yes.” He rubbed Kyle’s back in a way he hoped was soothing. “I’ll make sure of it.”

_I will right all that I’ve done wrong._

“Stan?”

“Mm?”

“I’m scared…”

“Of what?”

_Of you. Of me. Of the world._

He felt the shake of Kyle’s head against his neck. He tried to think of something else to say besides okay, but his mouth was already forming around the syllables. “Okay.”

A sniffle.

Stan went through the archives of his memories to try and find something comforting to say. A creaky hum started up on his chest.

_come on people now_

Kyle knew that tune. The tiniest of smiles crept across his tear-stained face. He wiped at his eyes.

Stan was right. It would be okay, he would make it okay, because Stan would do anything for him.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still working on my longer fics, but I won't be updating them until I have a few more chapters typed up for each of them.
> 
> In the meantime I'll be writing some shorter things


End file.
